War – of man’s genius (2013/05/12)

What is it that makes man such an innovator when he is trying to destroy another?

War is death; war is man maiming, conquering, killing, another man; war is brutal, when the basest of human behaviour springs forth.

And yet, war also seems to bring with it the best of human ingenuity, inventiveness, innovation.  In our day-to-day life, we may not give much consideration to the many things we take for granted but which rose out of the ashes, out of the rubble, out of the pall of death hanging over the battlefields all the world over.

Or should I say, these things were borne of man’s thinking on how to wage war, on how to reduce someone else to ashes and rubble, on how to bring death to the enemy.

The ubiquitous tin can was first used to provide longevity of food for the armies.  Our getting from one place to another, by car, rail, plane or ship, is what it is very much thanks to advancements made for the purpose of moving troops and war machines across the map of war.  We have been to the moon and back, we have landed on Mars, we are reaching out to the stars, on the back of technology that was originally conceived to get a load of explosives from one place to another, in order to destroy and kill.

But couldn’t we have achieved this, and more, without war, without conflict, in a world that only knows peace?

Do we need war to find this beauty of human endeavour, of human brilliance?

Seems strange to say that in the ignorance of war, man’s intelligence shines.

“He who marches joyfully to music in rank and file has earned my contempt.  He has been given a large brain by mistake, since for him the spinal cord would suffice.”

Albert Einstein.

Lill-ommi

Int li tajtni l-ħajja,

Iċ-ċans li ngħix,

Rabbejtni fl-għozza w l-imħabba,

Mingħajr qatt tlabt xejn.

 

Kemm il-tikmixa fuq ħaddejk,

Għamiltlek jien,

Bl-izbalji tiegħi u l-weġgħat,

Li ġab miegħu iż-żmien.

 

Kemm nixtieq nagħmlek kburija,

Mhux b’li jien għamilt,

Imma b’dak li bil-ħila li tajtni,

Jiena sirt.

 

Aħfirli li ma kontx kapaċi,

Il-jiem u s-snin,

Ngħidlek dak li nħoss,

Ngħidu b’fommi,

Imma nwegħdek li f’qalbi,

Hemmhekk int,

U ngħid grazzi lil Alla,

Li tani lilek,

Ommi.

L-imsallab

Inħares lejh.

Hemm imdendel,

fuq il-għuda,

ġisem imbiċċer, mifni bl-uġigħ.

 

Wiċċu,

miksur fl-agunija;

bil-kemm tinstema, tnehida,

l-aħħar kelma ta’ bniedem. “Għalfejn?”

 

Għajnejh isibu għajnejja,

Ħarstu il-ħarsa tat-tbatija.

Nintelaq, bla saħħa,

nibki tiegħi il-ħtija.

 

U ma’ l-aħħar nifs,

jaqa’ fuqi id-dlam ta’ dejjem. Nisma’,

“Il-lejla tigi miegħi,

tgawdi is-saltna tiegħi.”

to be, or not to be … Maltese (2013/01/10)

To be a Malti is to be the holder of an identity unlike anything else in the world.  To be a Malti is to carry with you, all your life, a stamp more indelible than any tattoo.  To be a Malti is to have, coursing within your veins, blood with the DNA of a long history unique in the annals of civilization.

Malta.  A tiny country smack in the middle of the “Great Sea”.  A collection of small bits of land in the middle of the sea “in the middle of the land” (mediterraneus).

The name Malta is said to derive either from the Greek “meli”, meaning honey, or from the Phoenician “maleth” denoting a haven, a place of protection.

Certainly, both sources for the name are appropriate.

Honey was an important staple since time immemorial, and these islands seem to have always produced a product of the highest quality indeed.  And in an age when travelling by sea was anything but a pleasant luxury cruise, a haven in the middle of the sea “żaqqu ratba imma rasu iebsa” must have been a much sought after attraction.  Well, Maltese hospitality did get a two thumbs up in the Holy Bible itself!

The people of Malta are a hardened race – a hardness borne of a long history dominated by a veritable who’s-who of military and political powers who yearned for possession of the islands, and the hearts of the populace.  The former, many fought for, won and lost.  The latter, they never got.

The Maltese.

We are small, yet we are great.

We are silent, yet we are loud.

We brook no criticism of our country, and yet we do not seem to be able to shy away from turning it into a shambles.

We are at peace with everyone, but we will not hold back from tearing into each other like the worst of enemies.

Summer in Malta is the season of the siesta.  And yet it will feel like living smack in the middle of a war zone for the uninitiated.  Because it also happens to be the season of the fiesta.

Our privacy is sacrosanct.  And yet, go into any grocer’s, and you realize why tabloids never made it in this country – you’ll get all the salacious gossip free of charge, with the bread or the milk.

We pretend to be holier than the Pope – scruples galore.  But a Maltese swearing makes even the devil blush in embarrassment.

You simply have to love us.  And if you don’t, then we cannot be held responsible for what may happen!

Because to be Maltese is to be proud of being a Malti.

“Lil din l-omm li tatna isimha,

Ħares Mulej, hekk kif dejjem int ħarist”

Dun Karm Psaila, L-Innu Malti

Il-ħolma ta’ l-imħabba

Il-għodwa għadha tisbaħ,
Il-bod il-qilla tas-sħana sajfija,
Il-qtar tan-nieda, bħal ġojjelli,
Jiddu fl-ewwel raġġi tax-xemx bikrija.

Mogħdija tulha miexi,
Isserrep qalb l-egħlieqi,
Kollhom ħajja li tnibbet,
Il-benna tal-ħamrija.

Żiffa ħelwa titniehed,
Tilgħab mas-siġra tal-ħarrub,
Il-qamh ħadrani jiżfen,
Danza ħelwa tar-rebbiegħa.

In-naħla kmieni bieżla,
Tittajjar qalb il-fjur,
Friefet, tnejn tnejn jilgħabu,
Namrati bla mistħija.

U fost tal-ħajja l-ħsejjes,
Tal-weraq it-tħaxwix,
Ta’ l-aħħar xitwa l-ilma,
Igelgel fin-nixxiegħa,

Nisma l-vuċi ħlejju,
Ta’ dik li timla qalbi,
Bil-kant, bħal t’anġli kor,
Għanja ħelwa għalenija.

L-aħmar tal-ward ħaddejha,
Fuq xoftejha bewsa,
Li tqanqal; u mal-ħarsa
T’għajnejn djamant is-sbuħija,

Nintelaq fi ħdanha,
Taż-żmien ninsa l-maltemp,
Mill-biżgħat insib il-paċi,
Imħaddan f’idejn kennijja.

Bil-ħasda nqum.
Din ħolma?
Jew xi fantasija?

Forsi le.
Forsi narha jekk nibqa nistennieha.

(05/2010)

of the end of the world or the end of the future? (2012/12/30)

21st December 2012 came and went.

And we are still here.

Life goes on.  Life hasn’t been snuffed out by some cataclysmic event destroying planet Earth.  The present goes on.

However, the last few months of 2012 were marked by three horrendous events, which grabbed the attention of the whole world – three events which do not represent the end of the world, but do represent terrible acts against the future.

In October, a fifteen-year-old girl is shot in Pakistan on her way to school.  Fortunately, helped by intensive medical care abroad, she lives.

In December, twenty children, five- and six- year-olds, and six teaching staff, are brutally killed, at their school in a small town in the US.

Again, in December, a twenty three-year old medical student is gang raped on a bus and then thrown out of the moving vehicle, later dying of the wounds she receives in the attack.

One can identify a number of commonalities in these three stories, but two strike me as particularly frightening: the three attacks took place on young persons; and (whether incidentally or not makes little difference) the three attacks were against students.

Three heinous attacks on children and young persons.  Can the future be a future without children or youth?

These were attacks that destroyed, or attempted to destroy, life.  Can the future be a future without life?

These were attacks on students. These were attacks on the aspirations for a better life through education. Can the future be a future without persons who yearn for learning, for knowledge?

In 2012, the world did not end.  But the future was brutally attacked.

Let’s not let the suffering of these victims be the beginning of the end, but rather, may it be the beginning of a new beginning.

“What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the butterfly calls the beginning of the future.” after Richard Bach.

for theirs is the kingdom of heaven (2012/12/15)

A few hours ago, a twenty-year-old man, armed with at least three weapons, enters an elementary school in a small town in Connecticut, United States of America, and kills six adults … and twenty children, none of whom older than ten years old.

Twenty kids are killed by a young man, himself barely out of that phase of life where he himself was called a kid.

A man armed with three guns, a semi-automatic rifle and two pistols – I am no gun expert but it doesn’t take an expert to realize what sort of mayhem such weaponry can bring about – enters what should be a haven, a place where the laughter, the singing, the enthusiasm in the voices of children should be the only sounds heard, and turns into a place of evil, where the sound of gunfire mingles with that of screaming, and where the voices of children are now heard recounting what they had to go through during those horrible few moments.

For twenty children, who just some minutes earlier had entered the main door of the school and taken their places in classrooms for another day of learning and fun and play, life ends abruptly with the last thing they ever see being a man pointing something at them, the last sound being a bang, and then …

While evacuating the school, the many kids who thankfully survived are told to close their eyes, so that they cannot see the terrible scenes around them. Children have to be told to not look at their own drawings hanging in the classrooms, the notices for Christmas events on the notice boards, at the walls which seemed so protective until a little time ago, at the friends they had been playing with.

And as the horror becomes evident, as the media starts churning out the numbers and the names and the questions start about the how? and the why?; an anchorman on one of the main news stations asks a question: how can we make schools safer?

It is a very valid question – but the fact that such a question has to be asked, and pondered about, and even answered, seems to me to sum up what is so horrible in today’s society.

We are speaking of schools.  We are not talking about some military compound in the middle of a warzone, or a high security prison for the worst of criminals, or a cage holding some dangerous animal.

A school should be safe because of the very nature of what it is: a school. The question should not be: how do we make schools safer?  The question should be: how do we make the outside, the society that surrounds the schools, safer?  how do we stop what is bad outside, so that it will never be brought inside?  It is the society outside the schools that needs to look at itself and tackle its evil, not put the burden of preventing the tragic consequences of such evil on schools.

I hope we do not simply mourn for the lost lives of such a tragic event.  I hope we have the courage to do what is right.

“Let the children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” Matthew 19:14.

of (dis)abilities (2012/12/03)

Early in December each year, the world dedicates its thoughts particularly to raising awareness about persons with disabilities: the International Day for Persons with Disabilities.

If one had to be truthful, wouldn’t such a day be, in reality, a day dedicated to all of us?  Because, is there anyone in the world who can declare that he or she has absolutely no dis-ability? Can anyone, if truth be told, say that he or she is able to do everything, anything?

Because, what is a disability, but an inability to do something that someone else can do, be it the consequence of some physical, intellectual, emotional or mental limitation?  Let’s be honest with ourselves – everyone has some sort of limitation; everyone lacks the ability to do something, even persons declared as being “normal”.

I do not intend in any way to say that there are not persons whose limitations make them require needs that are special compared to what the so-called “normal” persons require to get by on a day-to-day basis.  And I do not mean that there are not persons whose disabilities are such that their life cannot be considered as being “normal”, persons that require extra, let’s call it special, attention.

However, how more special would it be for our “modern” and presumably “enlightened” society to dedicate such a day, rather than to disabilities, to abilities. Because as true as it may be that every person lacks some ability or other, how much more true is the fact that every person who lives has some ability.  And yes, I am also speaking of the abilities of those we consider as being persons with disabilities.  Those who, through their so-called “disabilities”, who, inspite of their “disabilities”, who, by overcoming their “disabilities”, are able to make the world that bit more special.

The Stephen Hawkings of the world: can anyone argue with the fact that despite  severe physical constraints, Stephen Hawking is one of the greatest minds alive; and dare I say, one of the greatest scientific minds ever in the history of humanity?

Each and every Paralympian we have watched performing sporting feats at the Paralympics this year, feats that would shame many a person whose “sporting” abilities only arrive as far as sitting on a couch in front of a tv, watching sports.

The disabled son or daughter, brother or sister, whose innocent smile brings such a ray of joy in the hearts of their families, whose sense of protectiveness towards those close to his or her heart is imbued with such pure love that one wonders whether they are actually higher beings, emotionally and spiritually.

Maybe indeed, in life there is only one disability – the inability to recognize and use one’s abilities to make the world a better place.

“You are the only person on earth who can use your ability.” Zig Ziglar.